


Beyond Blood

by EiraLloyd



Series: Family Ties [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Androids (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Twins, Gen, Heavy Rain AU, Mentioned North (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 is called Ryan, Ralph is OOC, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17111699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EiraLloyd/pseuds/EiraLloyd
Summary: “It’s been months. How do we know the vics are still alive?” Hank raises a very good point, and they all turn their eyes towards the newcomer, already knowing his answer will either make or break their case.“I received a message, two days ago. They’re still alive, I know it. I need to help them.”





	Beyond Blood

**Author's Note:**

> _“My family is my life, and everything else comes second as far as what’s important to me.”_  
>  _—Michael Imperioli._

**_I_ **

It’s still raining. The skies are covered with dark grey clouds that reflect her feelings with unnatural precision. Everything feels too dark, too bleak.

            Except for Alice.

            Her daughter, her saving grace, is but a fraction of the merry girl she used to be. But who can blame her? Trauma leaves scars, invisible to the naked eye, overwhelming to the other senses.

            The clock ticks.

            The door opens.

            Alice is back.

            “Same time next week?”

            The young girl nods. So does Kara.

            The road to recovery is long and complex, but they’ll get there, one day.

            She has faith.

 

**_II_ **

There’s a knock on the door. Kara jumps, glances at Alice, then towards the source of the sound. She’s tempted to grab a knife with her, but she takes a deep breath and pushes the paranoia away.

            “It’s probably nothing.” A reassuring tone. A lie. It’s not the first lie she’s told for Alice’s sake, and she doubts it will be the last. She squeezes her daughter’s shoulder, as if that would make her words true.

            She’s anxious; she’s afraid. She moves regardless, feigning calm, ready to yell at her daughter to leg it. She turns the doorknob with dread pooling in her chest, her mind coming up with more and more convoluted scenarios of what might happen, only to find an unexpected friend behind the door.

            “Hank?”

            “Hey, Kara. We need to talk.”

            Those words are never a good sign. And this time? It’s no different at all.

            The dread remains.

 

**_III_ **

Alice isn’t here. She can’t be — she would be so disappointed in her, would hate her so much for what she’s done. She’s upstairs now, reading her favourite book again. Kara’s pulled out the bottle of whiskey for the occasion — it seems appropriate, all things considered. Especially her drinking partner.

            “How bad is it?”

            “So far? Not too bad. We cleaned up most of your traces — there weren’t any in the first place. But if they go through Kamski’s records, and find anything to tie him to Zlatko, you’ll easily become part of their list of suspects.”

            “Shit.”

            Alice is upstairs. She’s allowed to swear.

            “Amen to that.”

            Also, Hank has a rather large vocabulary of swear words, and uses all of them rather often. There’s no reason to censor herself in front of him.

            “What’s the probability of them going through Kamski’s records?”

            “High. But if they find what they need to link him without the shadow of a doubt to the Origami Killer before they find anything about Zlatko, then they’ll drop the investigation.”

            She sighs, takes a gulp of alcohol.

            “There’s nothing I can do but wait, is there?”

            Hank downs his glass. That’s all the answer she needs.

            She hates waiting.

            “I’ll keep you updated. It was nice to see you again, Kara. Say bye to Alice for me.”

            He stands up, leaves.

            Kara downs her glass, then pours herself another one.

            Consequences are inevitable, no matter how careful you are.

 

**_IV_ **

Kara hasn’t told anyone the extent of the trials — hasn’t even mentioned them, as a matter of fact —, and neither have the other three. Markus got a fame boost out of his article on Kamski and the Origami Killer; Connor got himself a promotion; Hank got the gratitude of previous parents; Kara got a shitload of trauma and an even more traumatised little girl in return.

            There’s no winning for her.

            Well, except for Alice. Having her back alive is a win in itself. And every day, she shows a sliver of progress that makes her heart soar, if only for a moment.

            “Mom? Do you think we can go?”

            She wants to travel, to see the world. Kara understands — she once wanted the same thing. But they have no money, and the blonde is worried that a sudden leave might make her even more of a suspect if the police were to find anything.

            “Maybe next summer, if you get good marks.”

            Alice smiles. Kara feels guilty.

            Her daughter wants to visit Canada, but the only thing the young woman can guarantee is a visit to jail, if it turns out she wasn’t careful enough.

 

**_V_ **

For a long time, nothing happens. Every day is filled with a paranoid fear that leaves her cold and anxious, but there’s nothing she can do about it, except remain vigilant. Even Alice has started to notice something is not okay, beyond her trauma due to the Origami Killer.

            “You should see a therapist.” She’s wise, for a nine-year-old. But she’s also too trusting — she trusts Kara did the right thing to find her, not the absolute moral mess that were her actions while her daughter was missing. “Mine is helping me a lot. Maybe one will help you too.”

            Alice has a point, but there’s no way Kara can see a therapist. She’s too scared she might reveal something she shouldn’t; something that might tip off the authorities about what really happened to Zlatko Andronikov. He might not have been a good man — the complete opposite, in fact —, but murder is still murder, and the blonde will probably be prosecuted for it.

            She will lose Alice, possibly for good this time. She can’t let that happen.

            “Maybe.” It’s a non-committal response, but it’s the best she can offer her daughter without outright lying to her.

            Fortunately, she drops the subject. Kara can breathe again.

            For now.

 

**_VI_ **

The police have publicly announced Zlatko Andronikov’s death on TV. They’ve summed up the list of crimes he was accused of, but Kara knows — they’re looking for the culprit. It’s official this time — enough to be on every tabloid, on every news report. And if they look too close, they’ll come looking for her.

            She can’t let that happen.

            When Alice goes to sleep, she paces in the living room, cell phone clutched in her indecisive hands.

            Finally, she dials the number.

            “I need your help.”

 

**_VII_ **

“I can’t tamper with the evidence, Kara. I would lose my job over it. I’m not even assigned to the case — it would be too suspicious.”

            It was too much to hope for, she supposes, but it’s still painful to hear.

            “I see.”

            “I’m sorry. I wish I could help. I really do.”

            She can see pure honesty in his warm brown eyes. It makes the emotional pain worse.

            “No problem.”

            “No — it _is_ a problem. I might not be able to do anything right now, but… I’ll keep an eye out. See if I can do anything at some point.”

            That’s… better than nothing. The pain lessens. She feels grateful now.

            “Thank you, Connor.”

            After all, not everyone is willing to risk their careers in order to protect someone they knew for less than a week. Maybe he’s like Alice in that regard — too trusting for his own good. But this time it works in her favour — and her daughter’s as well.

            And Alice comes before everyone else.

            “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.”

            “You didn’t turn me in. You could have. Many times. Alice and I owe you.”

            It’s an uncomfortable truth for both of them, but especially for Connor, who’s visibly uneasy at the thought of being owed so much.

            “It’s nothing. Really. It was the right thing to do.”

            _Not really._

She doesn’t contradict him.

 

  ** _VIII_**

Alice is starting to look better, happier. She has a little more energy in the mornings and is quicker to smile at jokes. She doesn’t flinch whenever it starts to rain anymore, and this morning, she even went outside to play in the backyard _despite_ it, as if it didn’t bother at all.

            As if she didn’t nearly drown in rainwater a couple of months back.

            Kara feels strange at that thought. A part of her thinks Alice _should_ be afraid, or at least wary of rain, but the other part of her knows that it’s ridiculous — it’s _good_ that Alice is moving on, no longer being brought down by the shackles of her traumatic experience.

            Except it’s Kara who’s drowning now, and she’s not sure how to save herself.

 

**_IX_ **

Gunshots. Three. They hit him square in the chest, and he falls back, eyes wide in confusion and horror at the realisation that _it’s actually happening_.

            Todd.

            Zlatko.

            Todd.

            Zlatko.

            Todd.

            Todd.

            Todd.

            Todd.

            Todd.

            _“Mom!”_

            Alice?

            _“Mom!”_

            Alice? Is that you?

            _“Mom!”_

 

**_X_ **

She wakes up in a cold sweat, Alice’s small frame clinging to her in desperation. She’s crying, she realises — they both are. The young girl looks terrified. She wraps her in a sudden hug when she realises her eyes are open.

            “Mom!” She sounds relieved, now, though she’s suddenly racked with sobs. “I—I thought…” Her sobs grow louder.

            “Alice…” Her voice breaks.

            “You were… screaming…”

            She had a nightmare. She woke Alice up, freaked her out.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “Mom, you need to get help. Please.”

            She’s right. This can’t go on. She’s scaring Alice.

            “I’m sorry, Alice. I’m so sorry.”

            They hold on to each other fiercely, and just cry.

 

**_XI_ **

“So, tell me, Kara, what brings you here?”

            “What, you’re telling me you don’t know?”

            She does. She can tell.

            “Humour me.”

            So she does.

 

**_XII_ **

Lucy doesn’t know everything. She can’t. She would rat her out — too many people already know her secret already. She can’t let anyone else know. She refuses to let anyone else know. The police investigation isn’t moving forwards — apparently, nobody cares about who killed a human trafficker and a drug dealer. As far as they’re concerned, they were done a favour.

            Kara relaxes on that front. If they never find out, she won’t have to deal with them. She won’t risk losing Alice.

            She can’t lose Alice. She just can’t.

            Therapy helps a little, though the reality of Zlatko — and Todd, always Todd — stay in the back of her mind. She can’t speak of them, to anyone — especially Todd —, but her nightmares become more manageable, as does the guilt.

            Connor checks in on her every now and then, as do Markus and Hank. They all keep her updated, sharing their information with her. She has nothing to give them but her thanks and her infinite gratitude.

            She’s not sure that counts for anything, but it’s all she can offer.

            Lucy says that’s more than enough, but why does that feel like a lie?

 

**_XIII_ **

There’s a knock on the door.

            “Coming!”

            Her paranoia’s gone, but when she opens the door, she wishes she still had it before she opened.

            “Are you Kara Williams?”

            “Who’s asking?”

            A tall, muscular black man that seems vaguely familiar, though Kara can’t possibly tell where she knows him from — and that lack of knowledge is terrifying.

            “Are you Kara Williams?”

            It’s a good thing Alice isn’t home.

            “What the fuck do you want?”

            It’s a bad thing she left her phone on the kitchen table.

            “Have you ever heard of Zlatko Andronikov?”

            Fuck.

 

**_XIV_ **

“Let me get this straight — you want to stop Zlatko’s business from moving forwards? But he’s dead!”

            He looks unimpressed. “Did you really think he worked alone?”

            Good point. Shit.

            “Why are you telling me this?”

            “I need help.”

            “No.”

            “Kara…”

            “No. That’s final.”

            She ignores the guilt, sharp as a dagger twisting in her chest.

 

**_XV_ **

She gives in, dials the number.

            “Kara?”

            “Connor? I need your help. Again.”

            “Is this about Zlatko?”

            “No. I mean, yes. But not really. It’s… complicated.”

            A pause. She holds her breath.

            “I’m listening.”           

            “How do you feel about breaking up his business?”

            “Give me three hours.”

 

**_XVI_ **

The old team is back together. It almost feels surreal — a one-time investigative team turned into a habit. She hopes not — she doesn’t want it to get too far. But there’s an odd familiarity to the four of them sitting around her kitchen table, ready to talk about their new case.

            _Their_ new case.

            A mother, a private detective, a journalist and an FBI agent.

            Hank was right — it _does_ sound like the beginning of a bad joke.

 

**_XVII_ **

“It’s been months. How do we know the vics are still alive?” Hank raises a very good point, and they all turn their eyes towards the newcomer, already knowing his answer will either make or break their case.

            “I received a message, two days ago. They’re still alive, I know it. I need to help them.”

            They pause, exchange looks.

            “I’m in.” Markus is the first to decide, of course, and the first to agree.

            “Me too.” Connor follows suit — as an FBI agent, he can’t let such an opportunity slide. He _will_ save those people, Kara knows, or he’ll die trying. Not a very healthy way of viewing life, but she can’t judge him — she followed the exact same drive when she was trying to save Alice from the Origami Killer.

            Hank sighs, shakes his head. “Great. Guess that means I’ve got a new case.”

            Expectant eyes turn to look at her.

            “I’m in — but Alice can’t know.”

            They all agree.

            Alice has been through enough. She doesn’t need to get involved in this.

            It’s not her battle to fight.

 

**_XVIII_ **

“Good news, they’re only in Philadelphia. Bad news, we still don’t know exactly where.” It’s not much, but it’s something.

            “Say whatever you want about him, Zlatko was good at covering his tracks. He doesn’t have many known associates. Just you.” Connor looks up at Luther.

            The taller man grimaces but doesn’t contradict him. “The few people I met always remained anonymous. They weren’t shy with their appearances, but I don’t have any pictures.”

            “Markus? If Luther described them to you, would you be able to draw them—”

            “—so that you could run the drawings through their database in search of possible subjects? Yeah, I can do that.”

            Those two work well together.

            The journalist pulls out a notepad and a pencil. Luther starts describing, Markus starts drawing.

 

**_XIX_ **

Markus is consulting his informants. Connor is checking the FBI database. Hank is going through police records thanks to his old friends in the force. Luther is going through Zlatko’s files, trying to see if there might be something he missed. Kara is taking Alice out for ice cream.

            She’s agreed to help, but there’s not much she can do. Realistically speaking, she has no connections. Her job has given her some time off to recover from the events of the Origami Killer, but even if she were to go back to it, there’s not much she would be able to do.

            Cases involving people traffickers don’t usually involve social workers.

            Taking care of Alice is all she can do while she waits for the rest of the team to get back to her.

            But apparently, she can’t even do that right.

            A man corners them outside the shop — taller than her, somewhat fit but not overly muscular, and utterly drunk. He has a pocket knife he waves around, and the blond woman pushes her daughter behind her, making sure she’s out of harm’s way.

            It’s in times like these she wishes she still had a gun.

            “You couldn’t keep away, could you? Back to finish what you started?”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She’s well aware of panic seeping through her voice — Alice is here, and she can’t know about any of it. She _can’t_.

            “You won’t escape this time. I won’t allow it. No, no, no, I won’t allow it.”

            And suddenly he’s there — putting her and Alice out of harm’s way for good.

            “I think that’s enough.”

            “ _You!_ ”

            “Leave.”

            He does.

            Kara breathes.

            She doesn’t know how Luther found them, or how he knows the man who threatened her, but she’s grateful, if only because Alice is now safe, and remains in the dark about their business.

            “Are you okay?”

            She checks on her daughter. She’s shaken, but overall fine.

            “Yeah. Who was that guy?”

            “Someone who worked for Zlatko before…” _Before you shot him._

            Alice peeks out from behind Kara’s frame. Luther crouches, trying to make himself as small as he can, as similar to the young girl’s height as his frame allows. “Are you all right, little one?”

            The young girl doesn’t move, simply stares. Finally, she nods, loosening her grip on Kara’s coat. “Who… who are you?” Her voice sounds small, still riddled with fear.

            “My name is Luther.”

            Alice looks at her. She nods.

            The young girl steps forward, past Kara, making small, timid steps towards him. When she reaches him, she hugs him, and he hugs her back.

            “Thank you.” It’s a small, barely audible mumble, but it’s there all the same.

            Kara’s heart clenches.

 

**_XX_ **

Everyone is worried about Alice. Hank has his cop friend watching over them whenever he has free time; Connor searched the FBI database for the man who had assaulted them and is currently working on localising the man; Markus is attempting to find a reason to arrest him.

            As for Luther? He tries to be there whenever Kara and Alice need to go out, sometimes even hanging around their house. It made her feel uneasy at first, but now it’s become a habit to have him around. Even Alice noticed — and has invited him inside for dinner more than once.

            The only reason Kara isn’t complaining is that she trusts him to keep her safe — otherwise, he’ll have to deal with the anger of three people with very important connections. And she trusts Luther is smart enough to know that wouldn’t yield good results — not for him anyway.

            Besides, Alice is usually an excellent judge of character. And she absolutely adores Luther.

            It helps that the man has such a gentle voice and mannerisms, especially when speaking with her daughter. Even when he protected them from Zlatko’s colleague, he didn’t raise his voice.

            But the business he just got her into makes her feel uneasy, especially when he’s around. He’s a constant reminder of what she’s done, of what no one else can know. Especially not Alice.

            Every time he’s with them, he has the power to tell Alice everything, to permanently soil the image her daughter has of her.

            He doesn’t do it.

            But Kara can’t help but wonder if he ever will.

           

 

**_XXI_ **

“Who is this Luther?”

            “A new friend.”

            “How did you meet?”

            Good question.

            “Alice and I were harassed by a stranger the other day. He defended us.”

            “Sounds like a good man.”

            “He is.” _I hope_.

 

**_XXII_ **

“Do you have a family, Luther?”

            Kara looks up in surprise.

            She never considered the fact that Luther might have a family — and she feels guilty for it. She had assumed he was alone — as alone as she was without Alice. But perhaps she was wrong, perhaps she was simply projecting her own situation on a stranger who looked as lonely as she felt.

            “No.” _Not anymore._

Is she projecting again?

            “I’ve only ever had mom.”

            She’s eavesdropping. That’s not good. She should stop.

            She carries on listening.

            “Well, we used to have my grandfather, but…”

            She’s not supposed to speak of it.

            “But what?”

            “He’s not part of our lives anymore.”

            It’s a sentence she’s rehearsed a thousand times, but even after so much practice, it doesn’t sound natural.

            Kara doesn’t stay to find out what Luther’s reaction is, but she hopes that Alice knows better than to reveal their secret, even to Luther.

            There are some things he doesn’t need to know.

 

**_XXIII_ **

“Zlatko doesn’t legally own anything other than his house, and he doesn’t rent any properties either. Ralph, however, does.” Connor pulls out a map of the city, three locations circled in red. They’re mostly on the outskirts, in areas very few people drive by and even fewer live. “They’re all isolated, and no reports have ever been made to the police regarding any of these properties.”

            “We should have a look all the same.”

            Of course Luther is eager to check them out. But they need a solid plan. They rushed headfirst to the Origami Killer’s warehouse without knowing anything, and it nearly got Markus killed — and the FBI agent was forced to shoot his own father.

            Who knows what the consequences will be, this time, if they’re not careful.

            “How do we do this, then? There’s not enough of us to tackle each property in small groups, and we’re too big a group to be able to sneak into every property one by one.”

            Hank has a point. This won’t work.

            “A friend of mine from the army is on leave. I can ask her for help — with her, we’d have enough people to have small groups of two sneaking into each property.” They’ve heard of the journalist’s connections before, but have never interacted with them in any way.

            This will be interesting.

            Markus and his friend will tackle one property, Hank and Connor the second one, and Luther and Kara the last one.

            If they could get the blueprints of each property, that would be fantastic, and the FBI agent claims he’ll do the best he can to get his hands on them. Markus will find his friend and fill her in on the plan. This leaves Kara, Luther and Hank, who will be posted at each property to analyse it from the outside — see if there’s any pattern or habit from the inhabitants that will be helpful when the time for interfering comes.

            This won’t be easy, but it’s for a good cause.

            Then why is Kara filled with dread?

 

**_XXIV_ **

Alice is out on a school trip, which leaves Kara with an entire day to stake out the property she was assigned. Dread is still there, a tightness in her chest and an abyss in her abdomen. Breathing is a difficult task, and keeping a handle on her emotions is even harder. 

            But she has to do it.

            She watches, parked in a corner of the Philadelphia outskirts, hoping her car is well-hidden from the occasional visitors to the area.

            Well, “visitors” might be too strong a word, but Kara doesn’t care about semantics. Not when it feels her entire body will combust at any moment out of pure nerves.

            There’s nothing noteworthy happening, though she does take care of photographing every car plate she sees, if only to keep herself occupied. The hours feel eternal, and her patience is close to vanishing completely. The property hasn’t changed at all since she showed up in the morning, and she’s tired of sitting in the same position for literal hours, with no reward to offer for it.

            In fact, she gets even less than a reward.

            A gun shows up next to her face — appearing out of thin air.

            She definitely didn’t see that coming.

            She definitely doesn’t have time to pull out her own gun.

            “Get out of the car, slowly.”

            She does, heart pounding so hard she can hear little else.

            It’s the man who assaulted her and Alice before —  _Ralph,_ Connor had called him.

            “I said I wouldn’t allow it.” He sounds as erratic as last time. “I _told_ you… and you didn’t listen.”

            At least Alice isn’t here this time.

            “Listen—”

            “No, _you_ listen. I told you I wouldn’t allow you to finish your work. And I always make good on my promises.” She doesn’t like where this is going.

            “What if I promise to leave and never come back?”

            “You… you lie.”

            “No. I have Alice back now. I have no interest in finishing… in finishing my work.” She wouldn’t call it “her” work in the first place, but if that’s how Ralph understands it, then so be it. Semantics were never her first concern anyway.

            “The little girl… yes, yes. I remember now.” And isn’t that utterly terrifying? “You would do anything for her.”

            “Yes.”

            She already has.

            “So, if I threatened to hunt the little girl… you would abandon your work?”

            Not again.

            “Yes.”

            Not a lie.

            “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

            “She’s my daughter. I would do anything for her.”

            Even abandon this investigation without a second thought.

            “Killing you is easier.”

            “But then you’d have to deal with Luther. And the police. You would get caught.”

            He’s cornered. He knows that. She can see the wild, crazy glint in his eyes receding. “You make a good point. Unfortunate, but true.” He steps back, gun lowering slightly. “Let’s see how far you will go to save the little girl.”

            She shivers. Those words are far too familiar — and far too recent.

            “I will do anything.”

            She means it.

            Ralph lowers the gun.

            She drives off.

 

**_XXV_ **

“Will you tell me a story, Luther?”

            “What kind of story?”

            “I don’t know. A bedtime story.”

            “Let’s see…”

 

**_XXVI_ **

“I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

            “But… but you said—”

            “I know. But… They threatened Alice. _Again_. I can’t… I can’t keep putting her in danger.”

            Luther says nothing.

            “I’m sorry — but I need to think of Alice first.”

            Alice always comes first.

            He nods.

            “I understand.”

 

**_XXVII_ **

“I need to go, Alice. For a little while.”

            “Will you come back?”

            A pause.

            Should they lie?

            “I’m so lucky to have met you.” Another pause. Alice understands — it’s clear in her eyes. “Take good care of Kara.”

            Alice starts shaking.

            She _knows_.

            Luther leaves.

            Alice cries.

 

**_XXVIII_ **

 

Guilt. Overwhelming guilt. She can’t bear to look into Alice’s eyes — can’t bear to look in the mirror either. Her daughter doesn’t blame her — she doesn’t know about the weight on Kara’s shoulders, the one bringing her down and down and down…

            She can’t breathe.

            It’s too much.

            She goes to Lucy.

            “I promised I would do something, but I backed out at the last minute, because of Alice.”

            “And you feel guilty?”

            “I do. But I couldn’t do it. For Alice.”

            “Would Alice have been angry if you had done it?”

            “Yes.” _No. I don’t know._

            “You always say you’d do anything for Alice, without remorse.”

            She does. But she’s feeling remorse anyway.

            Why? 

            “Family always comes first.”

            The words feel wrong on her tongue. What’s happening to her?

            “What is family to you?”

            _Family?_

            “Alice.”

            _I don’t have one._

            “Just Alice?”

            _It perished long ago._

            “Yes.”

            “I see…”

            A pause. She tenses.

            “Why do you ask?”

            “Family isn’t only made of our relatives. Family can be anyone we are close to — anyone we would trust with our lives. If you were to leave, let’s say, for one night, and had to get someone to take care of Alice, who would you ask?”

            “I have a few friends I could ask.” _Hank. Connor. Markus._

_Luther._

“And do you consider them family?”

            “I…”

            _Do I consider them family?_

            “I’m not sure.”

            “That promise you made — was it to your friends?”

            “Yes.”

            _Regret, sharp as a knife._

            “I see.”

            _She’s judging you._

_No, she’s not._

_Then why is she looking at you like that?_

_You’re projecting again._

She pauses, looks down.

            You _’re the one judging yourself._

            “I…”

            _Are they family?_

“I think I should go.”

            “The hour isn’t over yet.”

            “I know, but there’s something I need to do.”

            _Yes, they are._

**_XXIX_ **

 

Luther lied. He does have family — not relatives, no, but close friends he would trust with his life. Kara drives a sleepy Alice there, well aware she could be making the worst mistake of her life. But she owes it to her friends to try.

            She’s fucked up enough already.

            “Is Rose here?”

            It’s a young man — Rose’s son, probably. Adam. He remains unresponsive until she mentions Luther’s name — then his whole demeanour changes.

            Rose treats Alice like her own daughter, and Kara’s worries are pacified, if only for a moment. It helps that she knows — Luther kept her up to date, apparently, and that makes things a lot easier. She doesn’t have to lie, nor does she have to waste time explaining everything to this stranger.

            She pulls the woman aside as soon as she can.

            “If something were to happen…”

            “Alice will be okay.”

            That’s the best she’s going to get. She nods.

            “I’ll see you in the morning, okay, Alice?” _Maybe. If I make it._ “Sleep well.” _I love you._

 

**_XXX_ **

 

The gun feels heavy in her hands, and her arms shake with nerves. Safety’s on — if she accidentally pulls the trigger, nothing will happen —, but she’s nervous all the same. Scared, too.

            _What if I’m too late?_

She needs to know.

            She creeps across the land quietly, probing the front door with gentle, quiet movements. It’s unlocked — Luther must have gone inside already —, and she tries to open it as quietly as she can.

            Her heart pounds.

            The door creaks.

            She holds her breath.

            Nothing happens.

            She moves forward.

            The entrance is empty, as are the first few rooms she walks into. She has two options: go upstairs, or downstairs.

            _If I wanted to keep people prisoner, I would not leave them upstairs, with clear windows and too much space._

            She goes downstairs. The gun shakes in her hands, following the beat of her heart. She breathes in, out, in, out.

            She steps forwards.

            The entire house is dark and quiet — too quiet for her own taste. The basement is far too big, and she has no idea whether she’s going the right way.

            A sound comes, muffled through the wall. She hears it. She stops.

            Breathes in.

            Out.

            In.

            Hold.

            “… thought you could do it.” It sounds vaguely like Ralph’s voice. Her hands start shaking.

            _Alice._

_She’s safe._

_For now. What if something happens?_

_She’s safe._

_You don’t know for sure._

No, she doesn’t. But it’s too late to turn back now.

            _Luther is in danger._

She creeps along the corridor, keeping her back close to the wall she can hear the sounds from.

            “But you failed, Luther. They’re not here. You’re too late.”

            _But I’m not._

            She locates the room, breathes in.

            Out.

            In.

            Out.

            In.

            She kicks the door down.

            “Hands in the air.”

            Ralph jumps, obeys, hands shaking even harder than hers.

            “ _You!_ ”

            She glances at Luther. He seems a bit disoriented, tied to a chair.

            She motions towards the wall with her gun.

            “ _You promised! For the little girl… you promised!_ ” His shrieks are deafening.

            He obeys all the same.

            Kara brings down the bottom of the gun on his head, and he crumbles to the ground fairly quickly.

            It makes her feel nauseous.

            “Kara?”

            _Luther first. Everything else comes later._

“Luther, are you okay?”

            “What about Alice?”

            “She’s safe.” A pause. “I made a promise.”

            He’s free now, but Ralph isn’t. And after they call the police, he never will be again.

            “Let’s go find the others.”

            _They don’t have time to waste._

**_XXXI_ **

 

Zlatko’s victims are safe. Hank, Connor, Markus and North managed to rescue them all. Everyone is safe now — free to carry on, to move on with their lives, after the horror they just lived.

            Except for Kara.

            She was taken in by the police after they arrived to help the victims. Apparently, they’d found Ralph soon enough — and he was happy to tell them everything about how she shot Zlatko.

            The evidence in Kamski’s documents doesn’t help.

            She’s in an interrogation room now, heart pounding, tears threatening to spill.

            All she can think of is Alice.

            She took a risk and it paid off — but it also brought consequences she had managed to evade until then. But the real loser of the story is Alice. She will know now — it will probably be all over the news; there’s no way she won’t see it…

            _I’m sorry, Alice. I failed you._

            She wishes she hadn’t. But she had no other choice.

            She had to help the rest of her family.

            There’s no one in the interrogation room with her. There’s a glass of cool water on the table, but she hasn’t touched it. She doesn’t dare, too to even breathe. She has only been in a room like this once before, and she hated every second of it.

            The feeling has only grown since then.

            She’s also terrified they will find out, somehow, about Todd.

            That’s a secret she swore she would take to her grave, but she knows now there are no real secrets — not of this kind, not the ones that involve another human life, another human death.

            They know of Zlatko. What can she possibly do now?

            The door opens.

            To her surprise, Connor walks in. She holds her breath, and her heart starts beating erratically when she realises something important.

            It’s not Connor.

            His features are sharper and his eyes are the wrong colour — a cold grey that brings no reassurance with him.

            He must be Connor’s brother, though that means little to her. She does not know this man — he’s not her friend, not her family.

            And, if she ends up behind bars, he never will be.

            Another officer follows him.

            “Officer Miller—”

            She expects the worst.

            “—release her.”

            She gets the best.

            “Yes, sir.”

            Kara blinks in confusion.

            The handcuffs are taken off, leaving only a sting behind. She doesn’t bother rubbing them, still staring at the stranger’s familiar face. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t breathe.

            This is too good to be true.

            “The CIA has issued an official pardon to one Ms Kara Williams — _for services rendered._ ”

            This can’t be real.

            This is too good to be true.

            “You’re free to go.”

 

 

**_XXXII_ **

 

Alice hugs her tight when she next sees her. Kara hugs back just as tight.

            She never thought she would see her again. And yet here they are.

            They have Connor to thank for that, but mostly Ryan. Without his resources, she’d probably still be there, awaiting trial, with no possibility of escape. She’s glad it happened this way instead — it eases her poor anxious heart.

            She also owes the rest a thank you — Hank and Markus for being there when she needed them, and Luther, Rose and Adam for taking care of Alice when she couldn’t. Kara never expected to find these people — never expected to trust anyone after everything she’d been through. But she found them. She _trusted_ them.

            She’s not alone anymore.

            She has a family.

**Author's Note:**

> Two things:
> 
> 1 - Sorry for making Ralph out of character. But, well, I needed someone from Kara's storyline in the game to be one of Zlatko's colleagues.  
> 2 - I know absolutely nothing about how the CIA works or if they have the power to do what they just did in my story, but for Kara's sake, let's pretend it's possible. Seriously, she deserves a break.


End file.
